Casual Affair- Frerard
by xXdemolitionloverXx
Summary: Originally started this as a fanfiction but changed around names to share with friends who wouldn't have known the pairing. They encouraged me to continue and 100 chapters later... I'm posting it here for you weirdos. Review if you want me to keep posting :) **Trigger Warning** self-harm, drug abuse, LOTS OF BUTTSEX
1. Chapter 1

**suggested song: Casual Affair by Panic! at the Disco**

 **chapter 1**

 _As many times as Gerard looks at Frank, he silently remembers how they had come to this. Lovers meeting in the dead of night, to share the silence of intimacy. He has lost count of how many times he's submitted to the wonderful, terrifying world that was making love to Frank; nor could he see this affair ending any time soon._

 _But with a jolt he remembers that this very well could be the last time. Jamia had begun to question where Frank was late in the night; LynZ, it seemed, had figured it out. But with another child on the way, Gerard has to force himself to quit his biggest addiction: The wild, beautiful man he'd come to love over the last fifteen years, known as Frank Iero. For his wife, for his baby._

Frank, however, was willing to leave it all behind for Gerard; Jamia had grown cold since Cherry and Lily were born. Miles was barely even on her radar- all the new-born care was pushed off to Frank. When the girls turned 5, she had begun to neglect him and the children, instead focusing on her family of prescription painkillers. Frank has been raising the kids basically alone for the past four years. It seemed that since then, Gerard has always been there to help Frank. Just like old times, when Frank saved Gerard ... And, just like old times, Frank felt his resolve slipping. He was falling for Gerard again. So one night, when Jamia forgot to pick up the girls from school because she was high off Vicodin and Cherry and Lily stood in the rain alone for 2 hours, until someone finally called Frank from work, it seemed natural to pack bags and go over to Gerard's. LynZ was at her parent's house to visit, and had taken Bandit. That night, after the girls had gone to bed; Gerard and Frank lay in bed, together. Just like old times. Except this time, it was Gerard holding Frank while he sobbed brokenly over the mess his life had become.

 _And when Gerard had suddenly pressed his lips to Frank's, something changed inside of them. That night, every emotion from the past ten years had come pouring out, the men hungrily devouring each other in a desperate, passionate act. And it was then they knew, there was no going back._

The pair silently falls onto the opposite bed, laying on top of the comforter, staring at each other. They are exhausted but light years from sleep. "Wanna roll one?" Gerard whispers and Frank nods, sitting up and reaching for his bag, pulling out a Ziploc baggie.

 _It seemed like after that first time, a new sort of hunger had been unleashed between the two. It wasn't so much that they were constantly horny; it was as if they were making up for years of lost passion and intimacy. They couldn't get enough of each other, stolen kisses and quickies while their wives took the kids out to play, giving them "bonding time." LynZ knew; she had always known Gerard more than anyone seemed to realize. Gerard truly loved her, she was a beautiful woman and had given him one, now two beautiful children; but he was in love with Frank. And although it hurt her, she told Gerard, she knew that love wasn't a choice, she couldn't force him to love her. She loved him so much that she just wanted him to be happy._

Frank's eyes fall on Gerard's soft, pink lips as a cloud of thick, pearlescent smoke drifts from between. Gerard passes the joint back to Frank and he takes it between his inked fingers, lowering his eyes as he takes a deep drag and holds it in. Looking up at Gerard, he blows a small ring of smoke at his lover. He drinks in the sight of him; his skin is pale and soft looking. He's let his hair grow long and shaggy, hanging around his face in a dark curtain; this has always been Frank's favorite look, since they were teenagers. Gerard's face is thinner, sharper. Older. He looks tired and his hazel eyes look wise. He's grown more muscular and looks healthy. But when he flashes him a small smile, Frank catches a glimpse of the little imp that stole his heart all those years ago. The devilish, playful side of Gerard that, it seems, is reserved only for Frank and their girls, nowadays.

 _Gerard still felt attracted to his wife. He still loved her, and she wanted a family. She had always wanted a family. So when he found out that LynZ was pregnant again, he was overjoyed. He could have his Frank, and his family. It was perfect. Until LynZ finally spoke up._

The two men inch silently closer to each other as Frank takes a drag. He exhales as Gerard latches their lips together, sharing the sweet smoke with the beautiful man. Gerard slowly lowers Frank to the bed and Frank stubs the joint out in the ashtray on the nightstand.

 _LynZ couldn't keep living in this. She loved Gerard and understood that he loved Frank, but she was still a fragile, insecure being. She was bearing another one of Gerard's children, and while she was overjoyed, she felt slightly used. She was unsure of why Gerard would still string her along, when it was obvious he wanted Frank. So she stood up for herself, finally told Gerard to choose. Frank, or LynZ and his family. And no matter how hard he tried, Gerard couldn't bring himself to be mad at her for making him choose._

Now, they are silent as Gerard slips off his shirt and Frank observes every inch of him, the body of this man as familiar as his own, every freckle and tattoo and painfully beautiful scar. Their eyes meet, dark and hungry, as they strip themselves and press together, soft moans and quiet whispers, pleading and promising and wanting. They needed each other; it was anything but casual, and they knew it. But even though they knew that it was love, they knew that it couldn't last. Jamia had pretty much figured out that Frank was cheating; she just didn't know who with. And with LynZ's ultimatum, they had already decided. Now if only they could find a way to quit each other.

 _Frank had come home late from being at Gerard 's. Jamia had waited up. And as she stood, asking where he'd been, he could tell from the look in her eyes that she already knew. So he just shrugged dejectedly, and she stomped off to bed, crying. She threatened to leave the next day; she didn't though. For the kid's sake, she said. They rarely talked anymore._

As soon as the men came together, nails digging into flesh and names whispered raggedly in the stale night, they knew. This was over. This causal affair had timed out. It was finally time for them to say goodbye. They didn't even bother to put clothes on; they simply held each other, crying, as close as they could physically be but farther away mentally than they'd ever been. They were already starting to force their mindset back to their families. But as Gerard held him, Frank couldn't help but cry for what he was losing. Gerard was leaving. They couldn't stay friends... They couldn't torture themselves. Even as they cherish their last night together, they grieve for it.

So early, early the next morning, when they check out of the motel, they get into their separate cars, and go on to lead their separate lives.


	2. Chapter 2

****TW self harm, death and buttsexes****

 **suggested song: Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us by My Chemical Romance**

 **chapter 2**

 _Fifteen years later_

 _The funeral wasn't supposed to be a double. When Cherry died, it felt as though his world had stopped; he held a deep, burning rage toward the disgusting dirt bag who had taken his baby. She was only 23; she was innocent, just driving home with her boyfriend, when some stupid fucking drunk driver ran them both off a cliff. Didn't even stop. But then, when Jamia..._

Frank hasn't felt true love for him wife in almost twenty years; however, as they lower both her and their baby into the ground, he can't help but sob in utter and raw loneliness. He has no one; Lily is still not speaking for him. She blames Frank for not saving their mother; the kids weren't blind to her addictions. Cherry had been Frank's daddy's girl, while Lily had always taken to her mother. Miles- well, Frank had tried to be there for Miles. But all through high school, he'd followed the same path as his mother. Pills, booze, anything to numb the fact that he was forgotten, lost amid the torrential downpour that was his family. The day he turn 18 he was gone, and nobody has heard from him since. So now that Cherry and Jamia are gone, Frank doesn't have anything to live for. The gun in his glove box strongly agrees with him.

 _It's times like these that he finds himself missing Gerard; wondering what has become of the man. Last he heard from Mike, Gerard's brother, Bandit was in college now, and Wes, their youngest, was going into his freshman year. Gerard, it seems, had forgotten about Frank; over the years, Frank had weak moments, nights when he got a little too drunk and dialed Gerard's number. He never changed it; he never answered it either. Nor did he respond. Frank was hurt, but he understood. He was just a chapter in Gerard's life, and his chapter was over. But for Frank, it had never ended._

He lets the cherry blossoms fall from his fingers, past the tattoos now faded with age, and into his daughter's grave. The rest of the procession seems to be in a different world. Frank is so wrapped up in his thoughts, dark and sitting amongst the cool metal in his glove box, he doesn't even notice that everyone has begun to leave until he is standing alone at the fresh graves.

 _Gerard sits at the entrance to the cemetery, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he waits for everyone to leave. In all honesty, he doesn't want to watch Jamia and Cherry be put in the ground. But he needs to be there, for Frank. He has neglected the man, out of selfishness. He knew he couldn't keep him as a lover, so he cast him away as a friend. He only hopes it's not too late to save their friendship._

Frank wanders back to his car and sits in the passenger seat, locking the doors and opening the glove box. The windows are fogged from the cold and Frank as thankful. This will be so much easier without having to worry about someone walking up. Just the small layer of fog on the windows makes it feel private.

 _He waits until all but one car is sitting in the parking lot. After a few minutes, he sees Frank emerge from the graves. Gerard's heart leaps; this is the first time he's seen the other in fifteen years. Frank is crying, and Gerard decides to give him a few minutes. He watches as Frank climbs in the passenger side, and leans back against the gate, taking a drag of his cigarette. He hasn't smoked in years. He quit around the same time he let Frank go. But just like the sight of Frank, the taste of nicotine after all these years is as sweet and fresh and relieving as it always has been._

As Frank's fingers slip around the dark, heavy metal, he feels his heart race. He's excited for the first time since he lost Gerard, really truly excited. Peaceful. The voices that haven't stopped giving him plenty of explanation as to why everyone has left him... They're gone, for once. This is the calm before the storm.

 _Gerard exhales and suddenly, a thought strikes him. Why is Frank in the passenger side? He glances up at the foggy windows, stubbing out the cigarette and standing straight, squinting at the car. Something isn't quite right._

Frank rereads the letter he wrote right before the funeral. The words are blurry; his tears made a lot of the ink run. You can still read most of it, though.

 _Gerard beings to walk toward the car, his heart racing._

His finger slips around the trigger and he raises the gun to his head. He flips down the visor and looks into the mirror, at his reflection. He barely recognizes himself.

 _Taking a deep breath, Gerard knocks on the foggy car window. He can only see the outline of Frank, who jumps nearly a mile and drops something with a metallic clunk. Slowly, Frank turns to the window and wipes away some of the condensation with his sleeve. The first thing Gerard notices is the look in his eyes; the emptiness._

Slowly, Frank opens the car door, staring at Gerard as if he's a mirage. He wonders briefly if he's hallucinating. The two men stare at each other for what feels like hours; and then, slowly, Gerard's gaze lowers to the gun in Frank's lap.

 _His breath catches as he realizes what might've happened if he hadn't decided to come investigate. Gerard is suddenly mad, very mad. At Frank, at LynZ, at Jamia, and most of all, at himself. His jaw clenches and Frank's eyes drop to his feet._

Frank speaks first. "I'm sorry," he whispers. His entire body has started trembling and Gerard's anger towards the man fades. He's never seen Frank look this... fragile.

 _Cautiously, slowly, he crouches in front of his friend. Without a word he takes the gun and pulls Frank to him, standing and crushing the man against him. He can feel Frank's shuddering, gasping sobs and whispers soothingly in his ear, telling him that it's all going to be okay, that he's there, and he's not going anywhere unless Frank tells him to. Frank clings to him like he's drowning, and Gerard lets him._

"Please," sobs Frank. "Please, don't leave me... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Just don't go.."

"Shh, love," Gerard whispers. "Shh, Frank. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not. I'm sorry, I never meant to do this to you...I thought it would be the best for both of us."

"Why did you leave, Gerard? I know we couldn't have... kept... but... why did you pretend I didn't exist?"

"Because, I... Frankie... I... I was selfish. And bitter. I knew I couldn't keep you as.. As a lover... I didn't want to face that pain. I couldn't bear seeing you, seeing what I was missing. You're so beautiful, Frank. It hurt to look at you. I'm sorry, darling. I'm so sorry."

"You left... and Jamia... never came back. Cherry was the only thing I had... and then... that stupid fucking... I lost her. And... I hate myself, because I'm glad Jamia's dead. She's better now. But Lily can't even look at me anymore, Miles is God knows where, and I'm alone... I'm so alone..."

 _Gerard cuts Frank's babbling short with a sizzling, passionate kiss, and the two men cling to each other desperately. "Let me take you home," Gerard whispers, and Frank nods. He lowers his lover to the seat slowly and runs to the driver's side, crawling in. Frank shuts his door and the two buckle up. Silently, Gerard backs the car up and pulls out of the parking lot. As he gets on the freeway, he glances at Frank, at the gun on the floor by his feet; he can't help but shudder as he thinks of what might've happened if he'd waited even a few more seconds before investigating._

"Gee.." Frank says hesitantly. Gerard glances at him again, tears swelling in his eyes. "Where do we go from here?"

 _Gerard reaches one hand over and laces his fingers through Frank's. "On," he whispers. He gets off the freeway and makes his way down the familiar path to Frank's house. His pulse races as he pulls in the driveway, still clutching Frank's hand. They sit in the car for a few minutes, quietly, before Frank slowly lets go of Gerard's hand and opens his door. Gerard clambers out after him and they walk slowly to the front door; Frank's hands shake as he tries to unlock the door. "Here, let me," Gerard says, gently taking the keys and unlocking the door. Frank enters first, but stands in the doorway, blocking Gerard._

"Gerard," Frank says tiredly, refusing to meet his eyes. "What are we doing?"

 _"_ _Should I go?" Gerard asks, ignoring how his voice cracks. He doesn't want to leave._

"No," Frank whispers, absentmindedly stepping closer. Finally, he looks into Gerard's eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Because I need to be. I need to be with you."

"What about LynZ?" Frank says sharply. Gerard's eyes lower, and he sighs.

 _"_ _She's a better person than I deserved. But she understood. She always loved you, like a brother.. And she knew that we belong together." He takes a deep breath. "She said she's okay now. She understands that it's not her fault. It's been more like living with a sister, honestly, for the past couple of years.. She knows I still love her, and she loves me. But you and me, Frank..." he pauses. "We had something special. And she could see it. She told me to come find you for a while.. But I was afraid. I didn't think you'd want me."_

Frank stares at him for what feels like an eternity; then, without a word, he turns and walks inside, holding the door for Gerard. Gerard follows him in, and Frank slowly shuts the door. The atmosphere shifts between them; Frank turns, and his eyes are blistering, scorching into Gerard's. Slowly, he shuffles forward, leaning his forehead on Gerard's chest.

"You can't leave me again," he whispers. "Don't do that to me again. Please. I can't.. I can't let you go again."

"Then don't," Gerard replies, tilting Frank's head up and staring into his eyes. Frank's breath hitches and their lips collide; and once again, it's as if all the years of passion and pain were poured into this one moment, their bodies pressing together, hands pulling and searching and feeling. Gerard's teeth tug at Frank's lip and the shorter man moans, fueling the burning desire blooming in both of their veins.

 _Gerard backs Frank up to the couch; he doesn't think they'll make it much farther. Frank shakes his head, however; he wants this done right. Gerard scoops him up and pulls his legs around his waist; their lips find each other again as they stumble to his dark bedroom. He drops Frank on the bed and covers him with his body, tugging desperately at his pants. He frees himself of his dark jeans, grinding his hips slowly into Gerard._

 _"_ _Fuck," Gerard groans, flipping them over. He kisses Frank's neck, and then bites down firmly, but gently; Frank cries out softly. Gerard slowly trails his tongue down Frank's chest, circling around his nipple and biting lightly. Frank arches off the bed and moans; his breath is ragged and he claws desperately at Gerard's back._

"Please..." whimpers Frank. "Take me. Please. I need it." His erection strains against his briefs. Gerard smiles, the crooked naughtiness of it making Frank pant. Gerard hooks his fingers into the waistband and slowly nips and nibbles his way down Frank's stomach, making him writhe and beg.

 _"_ _You're mine." He growls as he bites Frank's hip bone. Frank moans incoherently and pulls at Gerard's hair. "Tell me what you need, baby."_

"Make love to me. Now." Frank demands. Gerard tugs his boxers down and slowly lowers his mouth, breathing harshly. The heat of his breath is too much; Frank pushes Gerard's head down, filling his mouth. A loud moan rips from his throat, and Gerard eagerly swirls his tongue, tasting Frank. Gerard's head bobs slowly, up a down, his tongue swirling around, and Frank moans louder and louder. Suddenly, he pulls Gerard's head back roughly by his hair, eliciting a hoarse groan. His eyes are dark, piercing into Gerard's.

 _Finally, Gerard tugs off his own boxers. He gently rests two fingers on Frank's lips; Frank begins to suck on them, staring at Gerard through his eyelashes, swirling his tongue and scraping his teeth. Gerard shudders and bites his lip. He grunts, "Enough," and Frank releases him._

 _He runs his hands down Frank's body, stroking him, and slowly eases one finger into Frank. He stops for a moment, letting him adjust to the intrusion. He curls his finger, and Frank moans loudly. He begins to work his finger slowly in and out, and then adds the second, stretching him, scissoring his fingers._

Gerard 's fingers press deeper and he hits that spot, that spot that makes Frank see stars. An animalistic grunt comes from the small man's soft pink lips, and he moans, "Now."

Gerard spits into his hand and strokes himself. Then, finally, he slowly eases into Frank; their moans mingle together in a symphony of passion. He begins to thrust gently, but Frank grinds his hips, pulling at Gerard. He needs it hard and fast and rough; Gerard can feel this, and happily obliges. They writhe desperately together and it isn't long before both of their bodies detonate, and they're screaming each other's names.


	3. Chapter 3

****tw more buttsex***

 **suggested song: Sweet Sacrifice by Evanescence**

 **chapter 3**

Frank floats into consciousness; the room is dimly lit by the rising sun, and he is alone.

The house is silent; deafeningly so. The rush of immediate pain, the emptiness that floods Frank's body takes him by surprise; he didn't know what he expected.

Slowly, he crawls out of bed, wrapping the sheet around himself. He tries to ignore the pleasant ache in his body; he doesn't want to think about Gerard right now. Zombielike, he walks to the kitchen, scanning the counters.

 _Gerard leans against the railing of Frank's porch. A cigarette hangs between his fingers; he glances at his watch. 6:37. He wonders when Frank usually gets up._

Frank starts a pot of coffee, staring dismally at the rumbling machine. He can't believe how stupid he's been- How desperate he was to believe Gerard. What fantasy world did he live in? What made him think he deserved the perfection?

 _Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Gerard thinks of LynZ. How lying to Frank must be wrong, but he didn't want Frank to blame himself. He hadn't ruined the marriage; Gerard had. He didn't try hard enough; she always knew Frank was who had captured his heart. She grew to resent him for it. But he hadn't entirely lied to Frank. She did understand; she just hadn't been understanding. She didn't want to ever see either of them again._

Frank eyes the knife rack on the counter, a sardonic smile playing at his lips. How long has it been? He pulls the thinnest, sharpest knife of rack out and admires it. Six months, a week and three days. He places it on his wrist, gently. Yes, this could work. Sighing, he slides the knife back into its slot. He doesn't want to start that shit up again...

...Does he?

He shakes his head. This was the last promise he'd made to his baby girl... He was going to keep this one.

 _Gerard stubs the cigarette out and runs a hand through his hair. He opens the door quietly and walks into the kitchen; Frank jumps nearly a mile. Gerard smiles; the smile fades when he sees the look on Frank's face._

"I thought you left..." Frank whispers. He rushes forward, throwing himself against Gerard. Soothingly, Gerard whispers in his ear, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

 _"_ _I just went out to have a smoke, love," he says as he strokes Frank's hair. He kisses his forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, baby. I promise." He glances to where Frank had been standing when he walked in, his heart skipping as his eyes fall on the knife rack. A sick feeling forms in his stomach; he holds Frank out at arm's length and examines him carefully. "What were you doing?"_

Frank glances at the knives nervously. "Starting some coffee..." he trails off, gesturing to the coffee pot on the other side of the room. Gerard grabs his arm, tenderly rolling the sleeve up.

 _His breath hitches as he sees Frank's scars, all of them... there are so many more than he remembered._

 _But nothing fresh. He sighs in relief._

 _"_ _Frank..." he says softly. "Did... Is this because of me?"_

Frank looks to the floor. He doesn't have the heart to admit that it is, that after Gerard left, this was the only thing he could feel... He simply shrugs. Gerard crushes the smaller man to his chest.

 _"_ _I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."_

Frank clings to Gerard, gently sliding his fingers into Gerard's shirt. He's warm and firm, muscular. Frank pulls his lover closer and nuzzles his neck; the taller man sighs and clasps Frank's face firmly, connecting their lips, sending sparks through Frank's veins. Gerard claims Frank's mouth with his, begging, exploring with his tongue. Frank feels weak; Gerard picks him up, setting him on the counter, the sheet falling on the floor. Gerard grunts in approval, pulling back a moment to look closely at Frank's body.

 _His stomach drops as he sees the scars that have amassed on his arms, his shoulders.. His belly, his chest.. His thighs. Thick white, red and purple scars stand out against Frank's porcelain skin, jutting through the beautiful tattoos on his chest and arms. Some of the once delicate, intricate tattoos are now marred beyond recognition._

 _"_ _Oh, no.." Gerard whispers, and then sinks to the floor, sobbing. Frank stoops, snatching the sheet and covering himself. I didn't see this last night.. Gerard thinks, sobs racking his body. How did I not notice last night?_

"It was dark last night," whispers Frank, answering his unspoken question. "And I kept my shirt on. I didn't want you to see.. I thought it would make you not want me anymore.

 _"_ _Your tattoos.." Gerard whispers. He remembers how proud Frank had been, how much time and money he spent on those tattoos.. If he remembered correctly, that used to be the only thing Frank liked about his body._

"I know," Frank whispered. "They always remind me of you."

 _The words pierce Gerard like a knife. He remembers sitting beside his friend for nearly every single one._

 _"_ _Frank.." Gerard sobs. "Why didn't you tell me?"_

"Tell you what? That I was dying without you? That I needed you? You had your own family, Gerard. It would've been selfish." He stops a minute. "Besides, you never answered, when I tried." He turns and scurries back to his bedroom, closing the door quietly. His words sting, even to himself, but he can't hold it in anymore. He's mad at Gerard, furious, for him just leaving like that. He dresses quickly in tight black skinny jeans and a dark red button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled all the way down. He smirks as he pulls on a black tie, his darker side stirring from its long slumber. He throws on black fingerless gloves, just in case the sleeve starts to ride up; he doesn't want Gerard to see his scars.

 _Gerard tries to collect himself; Frank's words hurt, but he knows it's true. He abandoned his best friend, his true love, when he needed him the most. He remembered how many times Frank had sat up all night holding him, how many times he helped clean his wounds.. And Gerard hadn't even known about Frank's until now. He wondered how many nights Frank sat alone, bleeding and thinking about him. Some of the scars he saw terrify him; they're too deep, placed a certain way that leads him to believe they'd held some darker purpose._

 _This is the thought that carries him numbly to Frank's room, knocking softly before opening the door. Frank sits, dressed, on the perfectly made bed and stares at his lap._

 _"_ _Frank.." Gerard starts cautiously._

"Gerard, you hurt me. Really, really badly. Don't think you can come waltzing back into my life like everything's fine." His voice is calm. Frank is surprised, as his nerves are frayed.

 _"_ _I know, Frank... I've been a cunt. Let me make it up to you. Please.. I love you. I'll never leave you again. Please.. Frankie."_

Frank can't resist the way his name rolls off Gerard's tongue. He looks into his eyes, sighing deeply before pulling Gerard to him, kissing him desperately.

 _Gerard slowly begins to unbutton Frank's shirt, but Frank stops him. Gerard stares at him, blinking. Frank shakes his head._

"I don't want you to see them. Or touch them." It comes out harsher than Frank intended, but part of him doesn't care. He wants Gerard to know how badly it hurt; to be alone for fifteen years. He pushes Gerard on the bed and grasps his wrists in one hand; with the other, he takes off his tie and loops it around Gerard's wrists. He fastens the tie to the bed frame.

 _Gerard stares at him in wonder, his grey eyes alight with dark humor. Frank straddles him, staring down impassively. For a brief moment, Gerard is afraid; but he remembers their brushes with the dark, wild side of fucking, and he knows in that moment that while Frank may punish him, he can take it. He remembers the times when he gave Frank full control of his body; as, normally, Gerard was the dominant one. He remembers their kinky escapades in hotel rooms in the dead of night, and his heart races as he anticipates Frank's revenge. He knows he deserves it, and is grateful that him and Frank are the same; kinky, rough makeup sex could very well be the only making up they need. However, there's a dark edge in Frank's usually kind green eyes, and he shivers._

Slowly, Frank crawls off his body. He goes tantalizingly slow, teasing Gerard as he pulls off his sweats and caresses his ass. "You took me last night.." He whispers against his hip. "Maybe I should take you."

 _Gerard pulls at his restraints; they're secure. Oh, this should be fun. He whines and nods in agreement. He wants this._

Frank rolls Gerard over, kissing his spine. He runs his hands down Gerard's ass, squeezing and fondling. Gerard moans. Suddenly, Frank's hand comes down, hard. Gerard yelps and moans again. "This is for leaving.." he mutters, his voice hoarse. "Fifteen, should be enough?"

 _Gerard nods and whimpers, bracing for the next blow. Frank hits him, again, his breath growing harsher. He continues to spank Gerard, a brutal rhythm.. Then, without warning, slips one warm, moist finger into Gerard. He groans. Frank spanks him again, curling his finger as he does, brushing that sweet spot deep inside Gerard that makes him cry out. Frank chuckles and does it again and again, adding another finger, and Gerard comes gloriously, shouting Frank's name._

Frank smiles as his lover comes down from the wave of ecstasy; he slips out of his jeans and boxers, then, ever so slowly, pushes Gerard's legs apart and eases into him. He stills as Gerard whines at the intrusion; soon, though, Gerard is grinding on him, hard, and Frank lets loose.

 _Frank pounds into him, the same brutal rhythm.. He feels Frank's hips push against his sore ass, and it's too much. He comes again, messily, loudly, and so does Frank; their bodies shuddering in pleasure._

Frank lies on Gerard's back, still inside him, his heartbeat frantic. He feels himself coming undone, again. He hopes, for his sake, that Gerard is for real this time. Slowly, he pulls out, enjoying how Gerard winces. Good, I hope he's sore, he thinks. Gently, he unties Gerard, pulling him close and kissing the red lines across his wrists. Gerard sags against Frank's chest.

 _Frank tucks Gerard into bed and then curls up beside him. Gerard wraps the smaller man in his arms, holding him close. Frank begins to cry again, softly, and Gerard whispers to him, over and over, that he's not leaving him again, there's nowhere else he'd rather be._


	4. Chapter 4

**suggested song: Hold On Till May by Pierce the Veil**

 **chapter 4**

Frank awakens alone in his bed again. This time, however, there is a delectable smell wafting down the hallway, and he hears movement in the kitchen. He finds Gerard's boxers on the ground and pulls them on with a smile, quietly walking into the kitchen. Gerard stands at the stove, cooking stir fry. He turns his back to Frank, unseeing, to reach into the cupboard. Garlic and onion sizzle in the pan as Frank walks up behind Gerard. He's wearing headphones, shaking his ass to the beat and humming happily.

 _Gerard gasps as he's shoved against the counter. Frank slowly peels his sweats down, admiring the bright red handprint on his ass. Gerard's breathing increases, but Frank simply pulls up Gerard's sweats and wraps his arms around his waist._

"Hi baby," Frank says softly, tracing his fingers up and down Gerard's hips. "Mm.. I missed your cooking." Something about his voice tells Gerard that he isn't talking about food. He runs his nose down the side of Gerard's neck, planting a soft kiss on his shoulder, before releasing him and hopping up on the counter beside the stove.

 _Frank's legs swing back and forth, kicking the cupboards beneath him, and he flashes Gerard a shy smile. Gerard stares, amused, at his beautiful little lover; his dark brown hair is messy from sleep and sex, and his soft pink lips are swollen. He still wears his gloves and button-up, but has abandoned his pants for Gerard's boxers. Gerard smiles at this. Forgetting the stir-fry, he stands between Frank's legs. He's still got at least three inches on him, and he gently tips his head up to kiss him, softly and slowly and sensually. They get lost in each other, leaning back against the wall, Gerard practically on top of Frank._

The lovers are brought back to earth by the shrill shriek of the fire alarm; the stir fry smokes on the stovetop. Cursing, Gerard rushes to tend to his failed meal, burning himself in the process. Frank's fingers trace his lips, savoring the taste of Gerard that still lingers. He's brushed his teeth, he notes vaguely. I wonder if he used my toothbrush.

 _Gerard dumps the ruined stir-fry down the sink and flicks the disposal on. He nurses the blistering burn on his thumb, frowning. Frank jumps down from the counter and looks closely._

"Here," he says, tenderly kissing the burn before turning on the cold tap. Gerard runs his finger under the cool stream, sighing in relief. Frank grabs the too-empty first aid kit from the cupboard, scratching a glob of dried blood from the lid with his nail before retrieving some Neosporin and a small strip of gauze. He treats Gerard's wound, as if on autopilot, tying the gauze numbly. Gerard watches him, his eyes welling with tears.

 _How many times? Gerard wonders as he watches his lover tend to him, as if it were a common practice for Frank's hands to tend wounds. A tear rolls down his cheek, and Frank glances up at him, his face concerned._

"Does it really hurt that bad?" Frank says, playfully. Gerard looks away and shakes his head, embarrassed. "Listen. It's okay, okay? It's in the past," Frank says after a long silence. Gerard's eyes lock on his again, before breaking contact to trace the shape of his arms, as if he could see through the shirt if he tried hard enough.

 _"_ _I want to see," Gerard whispers. "I want to kiss them." He raises his hand, reaching for the first button on Frank's shirt._

Frank's eyes widen. He steps back, shaking his head. "No.. No. Please don't touch them." Gerard stares at him, desolate, and Frank's heart softens. "You can see them. Just.. Please, don't touch."

 _Gerard's breath catches in his throat as Frank slowly shrugs out of his shirt. The scars take him by surprise in their brutality; all he can think is, before him stands a man who's tried to claw his way out of his own skin. They desecrate the ink that once decorated Frank._

 _His eyes fall on the sparrow that once perched itself on Frank's hip; the sparrow that matches the raven that perches on Gerard's. He remembers lying beside Frank, getting this tattoo. Now, all that remains of the once beautiful little sparrow is a mass of scars, amassed over a long period of time. Fifteen years, to be exact. It is gone beyond recognition; it seems as though his hip is now a grid of white and pink and purple lines._

"I'm sorry, Gerard..." Frank whispers brokenly. He is ashamed. He is ashamed of how weak he's been, how disgusting he is now, how destroyed. For fifteen years he tried to escape his hell, the waking nightmare of being completely and utterly alone; and the only thing that had ever helped was this. Well, this, and Gerard; but Gerard had left, and he kept going deeper and deeper just to...

To what? Frank had never known the true answer, the reason he did this to himself. To change something, perhaps. To feel. He couldn't stand the constant, stomach-twisting, skin-crawling feeling that clouded his mind every day; this seemed to take an edge off of it. So he just kept going and going, over scars from his adolescent years before he'd known Gerard; before Gerard helped him stop. But when Gerard left, he couldn't bear to see the sparrow. To remember the promise that had come with it.

 _"_ _Someday we'll fly away together.." Gerard recites, reading Frank's mind, as he sinks to his knees. He blinks back tears, humbling himself at Frank's feet. He is disgusted with himself. He is amazed that Frank will even look at him; he never imagined that he was hurting him this badly. His vision is flooded with familiar images of long, cold nights with nothing but the bite of steel and the rush of crimson to keep one from going insane._

"Gerard.. It's been a long time," he says slowly. "Cherry.." his voice cracks, and he gulps. "Cherry.. caught me. She saw some fresh ones, bad ones.. And.. When she showed me her scars.. Old scars, from when she was a teenager and I was too wrapped up in myself to notice her hurting...My baby. She told me that she stopped, and I had to, too. Because I was the dad, and I was the strong one, and if she could stop then I could too." Tears stream down his face. "I miss her so much," Frank chokes, and he drops to the floor, face to face with Gerard.

 _Gerard wants to throw himself against Frank, but he doesn't want to hurt him. For all Gerard knows they could still be painful. And after all this, Gerard just doesn't want Frank to hurt anymore._

 _He reaches slowly for Frank's hands. Frank watches him carefully, cautiously; Gerard simply laces his fingers through Frank's, squeezing gently and looking into his eyes._

 _"_ _How long?" he asks lightly, not entirely sure what he's asking anymore._

"Six months, a week, and three days." Frank says automatically. "That's how long it's been since last time."

"How long did you do it? After.."

Frank takes a deep breath. "Since the night you left," he says after a pause, his voice deathly soft.

 _Gerard blanches, dropping his head between his knees. Frank lets him go for a minute; then, he's crushed to Frank's clothed chest. Frank whispers that it's okay, it's in the past now.. they will move on.. Right?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Suggested song: Animals by Maroon 5**

 **chapter 5**

 _They lie on the couch, tangled in a mess of limbs and blankets. The television plays some cheesy movie that neither of them can focus on; Gerard is too conscious of Frank's fingers, trailing slowly along the waistband of his sweats. It's their first day off this week; Frank is a cashier in a miserable little supermarket, working at minimum wage. Gerard is in business; he owns a hotel in the next big city over, the Rockwell. He's somewhat of a millionaire, although a lot of what he makes goes to his family. His older family; Frank is his family now, although Bandit and Wes have visited a few times, when they could sneak past their mother._

Frank squirms, pushing his backside into Gerard. He can feel him, and it's distracting. He wriggles his backside again, and Gerard chuckles.

 _"_ _Eager, aren't we?" Gerard whispers into his ear, gently biting the lobe. Frank groans and rolls over. "Uh-uh," Gerard admonishes, rolling Frank back. "Maybe after the movie, baby." Gerard smiles at Frank's impatient moan. His smile fades as Frank grinds into him again; he stills a moment, collecting his composure. Then, lowering his voice to a menacingly soft tone, he states calmly: "If you do that again, I will spank you."_

Frank's body tenses at Gerard's words, desire spreading like wildfire through him. He smiles to himself and grinds his ass into Gerard again. He hears Gerard's sharp intake of breath, feels him tense.

He gasps as Gerard pushes him face down into the couch with one hand firmly fisted in his hair. With his free hand, Gerard slowly, teasingly pulls down Frank's sweats, running his fingertips along his pale, smooth skin.

He moans as Gerard's hand comes down, hard. He loves punishment; and Gerard knows it. He spanks him again, and then pulls Frank's sweats back up.

 _"_ _Are you going to be a good boy now?" Gerard whispers menacingly. He can feel Frank's heart racing, he can see the delicate part of his neck where his pulse is given away. He wants to bite the pale flesh, to feel his lover shudder and writhe at his touch; but he contains himself. Control, he repeats in his head like a mantra. This is about control. Once again he grabs a fistful of Frank's hair and shoves him down into the couch. He frees Frank of his sweats completely this time, and spanks him hard and without warning. Frank squeals and moans softly, the sound heating Gerard's blood."I can't hear a nod, sweetheart," he whispers hotly in Frank's ear._

"Yes sir," pants Frank. His hips gyrate on their own, searching for friction; Gerard runs his fingernails lightly down Frank's spine. Frank stills; he doesn't think he can wait much longer for this. He turns to Gerard.

"Please, Sir," he says timidly. He glances at Gerard through his lashes, running his tongue along his lip. Gerard's eyes darken but he remains impassive."I can't wait anymore. I need you, now. Please."

 _Frank knows that begging is his weakness. Gerard scoops the smaller man up in his arms and begins to retreat to their bedroom; he pauses a moment before the mirror on the wall. They gaze at each other, their eyes locking in the reflection before them. Gerard notices with a smug sense of pride the hickeys that line Frank's collarbone, visible in the dark blue v-neck he wears._

 _They disappear into the bedroom, slamming the door, not to emerge again for the rest of the day._


	6. Chapter 6

**Suggested Song: Liar Liar by the Used**

 **chapter 6**

Frank awakens, the bed empty beside him. Gerard has already left for work. He drags himself out of bed and starts a pot of coffee, humming to himself. Quickly, he showers and dresses in his work clothes, glancing at the clock. He's running a little later than normal, but oh well. He pours himself a cup of coffee and hustles out to the car. He gets in, but as he turns the key he is met with silence.

"Fuck," he mutters to himself. As if in answer to his situation, he hears the familiar hiss of a bus approaching the stop at the end of his street. He shrugs, locks his door, and runs for the bus.

He gazes through the window, watching the wet landscape rush by. His mind wanders to Gerard, and he wonders what he's up to. He pulls his phone out.

Hate waking up alone. Hope you're well. 3

He closes his eyes and leans his head against the rattling window. He puts his ear buds in, hitting shuffle. He smiles as some stupid Taylor Swift song comes on; Gerard must have put this on here to mess with him.

His phone vibrates and he checks it.

 _Won't have to wake up alone tomorrow. I'd be better if I'd woken up to you… ;)_

Frank blushes as he reads his lover's reply.

 _You're insatiable._

 _Only for you, baby. I'll see you when I'm home. I'm in a meeting._

Oh, am I distracting you? Sorry.

 _You're very distracting. I hope they don't need me to stand up and explain anything. ;)_

Frank chuckles, pleased with his effect on Gerard.

Good. I'll see you tonight. I love you.

 _I love you too, baby._

Frank gets off the bus, standing across the street from the Grocery Mart. He sighs, preparing himself for another day of the same old grind; he hits the button on the light and waits for the little green man to signal him. As he crosses, almost out of instinct he has a faint wish that a truck would come barreling through and crush him. He shakes the thought away, chuckling just slightly. He wonders if the fleeting thoughts would ever stop.

 _Gerard leans back in his chair, his eyes falling on the gorgeous blonde across the table from him. Her deep grey, sultry eyes and thick lashes catch his attention; her pouting lips are luscious. He smiles and orders a plate of oysters and a dinner of steak and garlic sweet potato fries. Gerard feels a little warm from the expensive bottle of wine on the table; he picks at the spinach avocado salad before him._

 _"_ _How many times have you done this?" The blonde asks. Gerard smirks._

 _"_ _Don't you know you're not supposed to ask that?" retorts Gerard, chuckling into his cup of wine. She blushes; it's obvious it's her first time, despite her cool composure. After a moment, Gerard adds; "I've been at this for about fourteen years, darling. I've lost count." He smiles lasciviously, tipping his drink to her. She flushes and he notices the subtle change in her posture. He knows this so well._

 _"_ _Are you married?" she asks suddenly, and then touches her lips like she can't believe she said it out loud. Gerard stills, his eyes falling on the thin ring on his finger. He knows the inside is inscribed; "Someday we'll fly away together"_

 _Gerard rolls his eyes, glaring at the girl. She looks chastened, and he sighs; it's not her fault. "Not legally," he huffs after a moment. "It's not legal here yet. Someday, though. Maybe."_

 _He waits for her to put together what he's said; slowly, her face drops. "You're…"_

 _"_ _Bisexual." Gerard retorts, daring her with his eyes to oppose. She nods and smiles unsurely._

 _"_ _That sounds like it could be fun." She returns his perverse smile. For a moment, Gerard considers bringing his work home with him; he shakes the thought off. He doesn't know how Frank would take it. Probably not well at all._

 _He relaxes in his seat, his knees brushing the blonde's under the table. She stills, and he knows he's got her trapped._

 _He stands and walks to her side of the table. He pulls out two hundred dollar bills and lays them on the table; then he summons the waiter, cancels the order, and commands her to stand. She obeys, of course; they all do. He wraps one arm firmly around her, puts on his wide-rimmed sunglasses and whisks the nameless blonde to his top-floor hotel suite._

Frank sighs, smoking a cigarette against the side of the store. It's his lunch break, and Gerard won't answer his phone. He wonders if he's still in that meeting.

The phone vibrates suddenly.

 _So, you're going to hate me. I won't be home tonight._

What? Why not?

 _I have to stay until almost 12. Company maintenance for all the security files. No trains run that late, I'm staying at Rockwell._

Frank's stomach falls. The only thing getting him through this shitty day was the thought of seeing Gerard. He sighs.

Stay home tomorrow. I haven't seen you for days. Pls.

 _Ok._

Frank smiles a little. At least he'll have him all day tomorrow, he thinks. He finishes his smoke and goes back to work. The day passes in a haze, and he just can't wait till Gerard's home again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Suggested Song: Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace**

 **chapter 7**

 _Gerard sighs as he wakes alone._

 _The blonde has left; the only trace of her is a stack of crisp twenties on the bedside table and the faint lingering scent of expensive French perfume._

 _He turns the faucet on the shower as hot as it will go and frantically tries to wash the scent of her off his skin. The familiar skin-crawling feeling returns to him like an old friend; after so many years he's grown accustomed to the disappointment in himself. At one point, this was all the fun in the world; he was so broken up from not having Frank, his wife wouldn't please him and he found that he was good at making money, and for the longest time it didn't even feel wrong. Now, though, he knows that if Frank knew… Gerard doesn't even want to imagine it._

 _He catches the first train home; it's about 6 am, and he just wants to get back to Frank. He can't shake the guilt of his profession; his guilt from lying to Frank. He picks up breakfast from the little bistro down the road from their house; he quietly creeps inside and puts their breakfast in the oven._

 _He slips out of his shirt and pants, making his way to the bedroom. He stops, checking in the mirror for anything that could give him away; but there is nothing, and he advances to their bedroom. He slips beneath the covers and presses up to Frank; almost immediately, Frank's breathing changes. Gerard watches Frank's eyes flutter open, his registration of Gerard's presence. And then their mouths are crashing together, soft and wet and hot, and they devour each other in a heated passion._

Frank rests his head soundly on Gerard's chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart. His arms tingle slightly, the scars itching. He tries to ignore it but after all these years, the urges still come at random. He doesn't realize he's shaking until Gerard turns his head and gazes at him with serious grey eyes.

 _"_ _You okay love?" he asks softly, rubbing his hands along the soft black material of the dress shirt Frank is wearing. Frank mumbles a sort of strangled reply and begins to rub absently at his sleeves. Realization hits Gerard. "They hurt, don't they?"_

"Not exactly," Frank whispers. His eyes fill with tears that threaten to spill, and he disentangles himself from Gerard. He hurriedly crosses into the bathroom they share, throwing the door shut.

 _Gerard's stomach drops as he hears the lock click. He bolts to the door and knocks gently. "Frank?" He says softly. "It's okay baby. Frankie?" Silence. His heart races, but he keeps his voice steady. "Don't hide from me please, Frank." His voice cracks slightly._

 _After a grueling silence, the door opens ever-so-slightly. Frank peeks through, staring intently at Gerard. Finally, he pulls the door open, gazing wearily at him. He's shed the shirt, and his scars paint a gruesome mural across his arms and chest. Gerard's breath catches at the sight of them, and he backs up to the edge of the bed._

"I need you to do what I say, okay?" Frank says quietly. There's an edge to his voice Gerard has never heard. "I need you to trust me." Gerard nods in silent agreement, and Frank stalks closer. He reaches for Gerard's hand, studies it for a moment; then, locking eyes with Gerard, places his hand on his forearm. He winces and Gerard immediately pulls his hand back. But Frank catches him and places it on his bicep. He shudders.

"Keep touching me," he chokes. Fear and arousal cloud his voice, and Gerard slowly runs his fingertips along the scars.

 _Gerard cringes at the thick, raised lines in Frank's skin. He traces a finger gently down the scar that runs from elbow to wrist, just barely too shallow to carry out its intent. A tear rolls down his cheek and he feels Frank tense._

"That was the first time I lost control." Frank's voice is deathly soft. "Jamia was screaming at me all day. The girls were hiding in their room. Miles just left, came home once it got dark. I couldn't even tell what she was on. She left with the girls, and I locked myself in the bathroom." He inhales sharply as Gerard's fingers gently brush his hip, and he grabs Gerard's hand. "Not there. Not yet."

 _Gerard nods and stands close to his lover. He runs his fingers over every scar he can see. He notices Frank's breathing changing and cautiously leans to kiss one, on his chest. Frank groans and threads his fingers into Gerard's hair. He guides Gerard's head down, and Gerard drops to his knees. For a moment, he continues southward. But Frank jerks Gerard's face to his hip. "Kiss them," he pleads. Gerard obliges, and he can hear Frank's sharp intake of breath as his lips ghost across the decimated skin. He can feel Frank trembling despite the impassive look on his face. Hazel eyes meet weary green and for a moment, the lovers are suspended in time, the only sound their labored breath._

 _Slowly, Gerard hooks his fingers into Frank's tight jeans and slides them down his hips, pleading with his eyes. Frank nods, almost imperceptibly, and Gerard rids him of the soft denim. Gerard's eyes fill with tears at the perfectly straight row of scars, thick and white and raised against Frank's porcelain skin. Holding him by the hips, Gerard circles his thumbs tenderly, moving his lips lower, tracing the lines gently. Frank groans and Gerard hears the need in his voice._

Frank doesn't think he can hold himself up much longer; as if sensing his shakiness, Gerard wraps his arms firmly around Frank's knees, just below the lowest scar. He lifts him and lays him on the bed gently. Not taking his eyes from Frank's Gerard pulls his shirt over his head and unbuttons his jeans, stripping to his underwear before crawling on top of Frank. Their chests press together, skin against skin and for the first time, Frank whimpers as if in pain. Gerard immediately retracts, kneeling between Frank's knees and eyeing him cautiously. "Too much," Frank whispers brokenly.

 _Without a word, Gerard scrambles off the bed and walks to the bathroom. He finds Frank's discarded shirt and brings it back to bed. Frank quickly pulls the shirt on and buttons it before reaching for his lover. And then Gerard's lips are on Frank's, and nothing else matters._


	8. Chapter 8

**suggested song: Hands All Over by Maroon 5**

 **chapter 8**

 _Gerard parks on the bottom level of the Rockwell hotel garage. His clock reads almost midnight. He recognizes the silver Mercedes parked across from him, the only other car on this level; he knows exactly whose it is, too. He smiles despite himself; this is one of his favorite 'customers'. Through the tinted window, he sees the outline of a woman's foot pressed to the glass. The windows are foggy, though, and with the tinting he can't see much else._

 _He cracks the bottle of vodka stashed under his seat and takes a long swig, watching the car, interested. It isn't a habit of his to hire anyone himself, but this is a friend; an old friend. He knew her in high school. She dated his brother for a long time._

 _The thought of his brother hits him like a train, and he sighs. He looks away from the car and takes another hearty gulp from the bottle. The door of the silver Mercedes swings open and a disheveled-looking middle-aged man scrambles out; he's tucking his shirt in and glancing around. He locks eyes with Gerard, who tips the bottle in his hand towards him in salute. The man flushes, pulls a wad of crumpled bills from the pocket of his fancy suit and tosses them into the car before scurrying away. The bills flutter onto the lap of the busty brunette who sits with her legs stretched out, pulling her black stockings up to her thighs._

 _Gerard climbs out of his car and stalks over to her. Her blue eyes light with recognition and she stands to greet him._

 _"Amy," he says, her name rolling off his tongue. Her smile is dazzling and infectious, her black hair falling in wispy waves around her face. He draws her close and kisses her lips gently._

 _"Hi, sweetie. What are you doing here?" Her voice is like honey, rich and warm and sweet. "I'm not off duty for another hour or so." Unlike so many of the other ladies and men he's used to meeting, the others who share his profession, she is unashamed; 35, single, beautiful, no kids, a steady day job (working at the Rockwell, ironically)and yet still sleeping with men for money. Gerard recalls questioning this, once, and her reply; "If you're good at something, never do it for free."_

 _"I was in the neighborhood," Gerard replies coolly. Amy raises a questioning eyebrow but doesn't push for more. Gerard doesn't offer anything further, and after a minute, Amy shrugs._

 _"Well, always glad to see an old friend," she says cheerily. Gerard chuckles darkly and steps ever so slightly closer. "There's supposed to be another man here soon. You should probably go. He doesn't like anybody knowing what he likes to do." Her face falls slightly, as if she's realized something. Or remembered something she'd rather forget._

 _"You know you don't have to," Gerard says quietly. Amy stares intently at him, tilting her head to the side. "You don't have to do anything or anyone that you don't want to."_

 _"I know," she says, irritated. "I do what I want." She rolls her eyes and turns, reaching back into the car and pulling a black lace sweater over her head. Gerard takes the opportunity to place his hand lightly on her ass; Amy stills. "Gerard," she says, stern but playful. "Come on, I have work to do."_

 _"Oh, you bet you do." Gerard says darkly. Amy turns to him, her eyes meeting his. They hold the gaze for a moment; then the spell is broken, and Amy tugs him into the car._

 _His hands slide up her thighs, hiking her skirt up, and Gerard notes that she's not wearing underwear. His favorite. He devours her lips, his tongue plunging boldly into her mouth as he tears at the tight shirt she's wearing. He hardly registers her fingers tugging at the button on his jeans, and then he's inside her; he groans as she rocks her hips against his. His hands travel along her body, pulling and grabbing and scratching, and he hears her moan. He bites her ear, whispers the filthiest nothings he can imagine; he feels her tighten around him, hears her call out incoherently, and then it's over. He lays his head back against the seat, thoroughly spent and satisfied, and she remains in his lap for much longer than she normally would. But he knows he's not a normal customer; they've been in this game together since the very beginning. As she nuzzles his neck tenderly, he feels something vaguely resembling love for the beautiful, kinky girl in his lap. For a moment, he allows himself to forget Frank, to forget LynZ, to forget everything he's done. But the blissful moment is shattered by a sharp knock on the window._

 _Amy gazes up at the window; terror flits across her face as she recognizes the man standing there. She hurriedly rolls off of Gerard's lap, and begins to frantically straighten her clothes. The door is pulled open; the stranger remains silent, but the fury etched into his face is evident. Gerard scrambles out of the car, and the stranger glances at him for a long moment before turning his attention back to Amy._

 _Gerard can feel her fear, and for a moment he thinks that he shouldn't leave her alone. But then she turns her now sad blue eyes to him, pleading him silently to just go, and he does. He takes a long chug of the bottle at his feet before pulling jerkily out of the parking lot; the world around him is slightly hazy, but he manages to make it out onto the street. He passes the achingly familiar windows of his old house, where he imagines his wife and kids- no, ex-wife and kids- are sleeping soundly. He stares at the dark windows a moment too long; when he looks back to the road, he realizes he's swerving all over the place. With a sigh, he swings around and parks his car sloppily in front of what was once his happy home, polishing off the bottle that rolls around the floor before letting the dizzy numbness take over him._


	9. Chapter 9

****TW SELF HARM****

 **suggested song: Tourniquet by Evanescence**

 **chapter 9**

Frank sits at the counter, staring blankly at the coffee pot as it fills. Its only 9 am, and already his hands are shaking, his eyes red and unfocused; he can't imagine where Gerard could be. He doesn't know the exact address of his office, for Christ's sake. He has no idea where to even start looking. For the millionth time since Gerard didn't come home last night, he finds himself attempting to pray for his lover's safe return. He's beginning to remember why he stopped.

 _Gerard wakes to a violent rapping at his window. He jerks into a sitting position, his eyes adjusting the harsh sunlight streaming through the windshield; he rolls down the window, an all-too-familiar voice floating through shrilly._

 _"_ _What are you doing here?" LynZ demands. Gerard groans as a piercing wave of pain seizes his head. "I told you not to come back."_

 _"_ _I was in the neighborhood," he says brusquely. LynZ rolls her eyes._

 _"_ _You need to leave," she says haughtily. "Should I call you a cab?" The sneer in her voice makes Gerard want to throw the empty vodka bottle at her; keeping his temper in check, he simply rolls the window up and starts the car. As he drives away, he hears her voice drone on, spitting obscenities at him and Frank that make his blood boil._

 _Shit, he thinks. Frank._

Frank can't stand it anymore. He knows Gerard will be disappointed in him, but part of him doesn't care. He should've been here, he thinks. He could've stopped me, if he was here. As he watches the blood drip into the sink, he feels the familiar tingling, the prickling on the back of his neck. He stares at the crimson smile on his wrist, unbelieving. I failed, he repeats in his head, over and over. I failed them all.

It's this thought that drives him to plunge the razor once again into the tough, scarred-over flesh of his wrist. Then again. And again. When he's finally satisfied, thirteen fresh, deep wounds glare back at him, and he feels faint. There's blood in the sink that he should clean, wounds that he should tend to; but now all he wants is to sleep. Clutching his desecrated arm to his chest, he crawls back into the bedroom he's shared with Gerard. He falls on to the bed and can't force himself to get back up. As darkness closes in, wonders if he's falling asleep or dying; he realizes he doesn't care, and the world goes black.

 _Gerard stumbles up the walkway to the front door, his head pounding. He rests his forehead against the warm wood, hoping that Frank hadn't waited up; then, taking a deep breath, he opens the door and goes in._

 _He can tell that something isn't right. There's a sort of despairing silence that has settled over the house. Normally, Frank would be up by now, bustling around. Everything is still, and far too quiet. There's even a strange smell in the air._

 _He was probably up all night waiting for me, Gerard thinks. Now he's sleeping in, 'cuz he's tired. A pang of guilt runs through him, and he makes his way toward the bedroom, pulling his shirt off as he goes. He notes the smell getting stronger, more distinct…_

 _He freezes in the doorway. The metallic tang in the air should have given away the sight before him; blood. There's blood everywhere, trailing from the bathroom, staining the floor and the sheets and Frank's skin. Frank himself is sprawled across the bed, his wrist slashed, unmoving. Gerard hears someone scream, then realizes it's him; he rushes to his lover and desperately shakes him, shouting incoherently, pleading with him to wake up. Frank's eyes remain closed._

 _Finally, Gerard kneels at the edge of the bed, sobbing. He's covered in Frank's blood, and he lays his head on his chest and listens. Nothing. He's trembling now, his wrists craving to mimic Frank's; the only thought left in his mind is, this is my fault._

 _Suddenly, Frank stirs. Just slightly. Gerard's head snaps up, and he rests two fingers on Frank's neck, feeling for a pulse; he finally finds it. His pulse weak and much too fast, but it's there; Gerard rushes to the kitchen, pulling down the first aid kit. He returns to his lover and tends to his wounds, mopping up as much blood as he can with his shirt. No matter what he tries, however, Frank's wrist won't stop bleeding, and bleeding fast. He pulls off his belt and ties it tightly, forming a tourniquet just below Frank's elbow._

 _Finally, the blood flow stops. He realizes that Frank's eyes are open, and he's watching him intently. His eyes are filled with a mix of emotions, but the only thing he says is, "Where were you?"_

 _"_ _I went to visit the kids." The lie is out of his mouth before he can even think the question through._

 _Frank's eyes search his, as if seeking the truth; and then, he lays his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes and whispering, "I'm sorry."_

Frank braces himself; he knows when he looks at Gerard again he'll have that look on his face, the mix of concern and disappointment. He's surprised when Gerard throws himself at him, wrapping Frank in his arms and kissing him desperately. He can taste blood and tears and alcohol on Gerard's lips, and he kisses back with equal passion.

A thought strikes him. Alcohol? Why does visiting his kids include alcohol? Frank stops, looking seriously at Gerard.

"Where were you?" His voice is tired. He almost doesn't want to know the answer.

 _Gerard sighs and looks to the floor. He can't know… Not after this… the thoughts make Gerard want to find that damned razor. Finally, he speaks._

 _"_ _I went for a drive," he said. "I wasn't… feeling right. I went to clear my head. Bought myself a bottle of vodka and drove around trying to find a good spot to drink it all. I ended up… back on Laughin St."_

Frank looks at Gerard. He thinks of the cursed street, where Jamia and he had once lived with their daughters. Where just at the corner stood LynZ's house, Gerard's old house.

And, at the very back end of the road, the house facing the woods.

The house where Gerard had grown up.

Frank knows all the horrible memories that house held; and for a second, he almost feels terrible for his suspicions.

Almost.

 _"_ _I climbed up that old tree and started drinking," he lies flawlessly. He smiles fondly at the memory of the tree. "After a while, the bottle was gone and I basically fell out of the tree. I tried to drive a ways but I ended up stopping right in front of.. LynZ's place. I parked and crashed out. I'm sorry, I should've called you."_

"You should've." Frank's voice is icy and monotone. He looks around, at the blood and mess around them. Wordlessly, he stands and begins to strip the sheets; but loses balance and starts to collapse. Gerard catches him, steadying him with his strong arms; then on second thought, he picks up the fragile man bridal style. He carries him to the bathroom, placing him gently on the counter. He finds some gauze under the sink and bandages Frank's arm tightly, unbuckling his makeshift tourniquet. Then he turns and starts the shower.

 _"_ _Can I join you?" he asks softly, gesturing towards the shower. Frank nods. Gerard tests the water, adjusting the knob. He pulls off the rest of his clothes, facing the wall; he finds himself unable to look at Frank._

Frank observes his lover as he undresses, his eyes greedily taking in the shape of his body. He admires Gerard's strong shoulders, his muscular back. Slowly, he unbuttons his shirt and peels it off carefully. It gets stuck around the thick gauze; he pulls harder, wincing. He sees the sterile white pads flush with crimson in glaring lines, and feels a heavy dread in the pit of his stomach.

In a moment Gerard is before him, gently unbuttoning and tugging at the fabric until it comes loose. He drops Frank's shirt to the floor and stares numbly at the mess of scars that were once a sparrow. Frank unbuttons his pants and tugs them down past his hips, his thighs, kicking them to the floor.

 _Gerard picks Frank up again, still looking at the scars, the floor, anything but Frank's eyes. He sets him down in the shower and joins him, sitting in the tub under the steaming rain._

 _He pulls Frank between his legs and grabs the bottle of body wash on the side of the tub. He pours a little into his hands and begins to gently wash Frank's back, his neck, around his sides, his chest…_

Frank turns to face Gerard, gently picking the gauze that's tied around his wrist. With deft fingers Gerard unties the wrapping, unraveling it and revealing the gruesome canvas of flesh. Fresh blood seeps down the drain, mixing with the water around them. Gerard's eyes widen. "We need to get you to the hospital, Frankie…"

"No." Frank barks, retracting his arm violently. He winces as the water assaults his torn flesh, although it doesn't really even hurt anymore. It's gone numb, like the rest of him. "No way. One look at me and they'll lock me up."

 _"_ _Frank," Gerard says pleadingly. "Please. You need help."_

 _"_ _I don't need help," Frank says coldly. "I don't need anyone's help."_

 _"_ _Not even mine?" Gerard's voice cracks._

 _"_ _No."_

Frank can't believe how harsh he's being, but he doesn't really care. It all feels like a bad dream anyways. He's dizzy and just wants to lie back down in the tub.

 _Without a word, Gerard stands and opens the shower door, climbing out. He wraps a towel around his waist and stands at the sink, staring at the razor lying by the drain. His head is spinning; all he can think is: this is my fault. This is all my fault. I made him this way._

"Don't you fucking dare," Frank growls from the shower. He's watching Gerard through the glass. Gerard looks at him guiltily before grabbing the razor and leaving the bathroom. Frank's too weak and apathetic to stop him; he simply lays his head against the door and stares at his arm. They're deep; he can see the white of the fat in his arm. He's honestly surprised he'd gone so deep, at least on his wrists; the scar tissue had long since made a thick layer of nearly impenetrable skin. He barely remembers the act itself.

He knows without even looking at the pink water around him that he's losing blood, too much and too fast. He knows that Gerard's right, he needs help… But he can't shake the feeling that Gerard's hiding something, and he doesn't think he can ever get better than this.

 _Gerard strips the bed, scrubs the floors, everything he can to get rid of all the blood; Frank's blood. He notices old blood stains now, on the carpet, the mattress. Everywhere. Gerard feels like the walls are caving in, and he can't catch his breath. He can't stop thinking of what he's done to Frank. He could've lost him. He could have died. It all would've been over, the paradise he's lived in with Frank for almost two months now._

 _In this moment, Gerard resolves never to betray Frank again. He'd rather die than ever let Frank get this low. He can't get the image of the wounds out of his head, how deep and vicious; he's genuinely worried about how much blood Frank's lost._

 _His heart races as he searches the room for his phone. He realizes he's left it in the pocket of his pants on the bathroom floor; bracing himself, he goes in to retrieve it. Frank is slumped against the wall, unmoving. He seems to ignore Gerard's presence as he collects their clothing and leaves._

Frank is faintly aware that Gerard has come back into the bathroom; he can't summon the energy to acknowledge him, though. He wants to tell him that even he's concerned about the amount of blood he's lost; but the words get jumbled together in his head and he can't force them out of his mouth. The world around him is blurry and disconnected.

He feels his consciousness slipping and gives in to the nothingness.

 _Gerard's fingers tremble as he dials 911. "What's your emergency?" asks an apathetic voice._

 _"_ _My boyfriend tried to kill himself," he says shakily. Saying out loud makes it real, and he crumples to the floor, crying. "He needs help. He's still bleeding too much… He needs help."_

 _"_ _Dispatch is on their way. Where is he right now?"_

 _"_ _In the shower."_

 _"_ _Is he conscious?"_

 _"_ _I don't know… He was when I left him."_

 _"_ _Stay with him until the officers get there. Try to keep him conscious."_

 _"_ _Okay," Gerard flips the phone shut and hurries to the bathroom where Frank is lying in the tub. The water's gone cold, and Frank is unmoving. Dread takes over as Gerard shuts the water off and tries to rouse his lover._

 _No response._

 _He climbs into the tub and wraps Frank in his arms, clutching the small man desperately and sobbing. He doesn't register when the sheriff begins to pound on the door; the world is slow, muted, surreal. Then there's the sound of splintering wood, heavy footsteps pounding down the hall. Two paramedics rush into the bathroom and pull Frank from Gerard's arms; Gerard tries to hold on, but another paramedic holds him back. Gerard is too numb to speak or think._

 _They cart Frank off to the hospital; the paramedic offers him a ride, but Gerard doesn't think he can stand to see Frank right now. Instead he finds himself sitting in his car, staring numbly at the dashboard. He starts the car and begins to drive, not exactly knowing where he's headed; then he's parked in the bottom level of the Rockwell garage once again, his eyes raking the cars parked there for a silver Mercedes._

 _He sends a quick text to Amy, telling her where he is but not why; it's a few minutes before he gets a reply._

 _You shouldn't be here right now._

 _He sends a few more messages, inquiring why. It's his hotel, after all. But he gets no reply. Its then that he remembers the steel-faced stranger from last night- (could that really only have been last night?) and for the first time since he arrived home, feels something besides emptiness or guilt._

 _Rage._

 _He slams the door as he climbs out of his car, stomping towards the elevator. He presses the button for floor 15, tapping his foot impatiently as he waits for the elevator car to ascend._

 _His hands are balled into fists, but he's shaking; he stares at the door he knows Amy's behind, one of the nicest suites that he reserves almost exclusively for her escapades. He wills himself to just leave, to go meet Frank at the hospital. This isn't a can of worms he needs to open right now._

 _Bracing himself, he begins to pound furiously on the door._


	10. Chapter 10

**suggested song: Call Me When You're Sober by Evanescence**

 **chapter 10**

Frank's eyes blink against the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room he's in. The ceiling and walls are blindingly white; the only thing he can taste is antiseptic and sickness. He tries to sit up but finds that he's restrained; he can feel tubes in his skin and as he attempts to free himself, a nurse bustles over to him, pressing the button on the side of his bed until it inclines to a sitting position. He focuses on the lanyard around her neck to avoid eye contact. The nurse is tall, friendly-looking woman with long, dark hair. Her nametag identifies her as Lacey Sturm. She checks his vitals in silence, as if sensing his reluctance to speak.

Finally, she's done. Frank expects her to leave, but she lingers, watching him carefully. He flushes from the attention, wishing only for the floor to swallow him up; the nurse finally speaks.

"Doctor Bryar has been watching over you," she says slowly, as if talking to a child. "But nobody really knows why you're here. The only info we have about you is your name, and that you're a suicide attempt."

Frank rolls his eyes at her condescending tone and stares petulantly at the floor. All he can think is, where's Gerard? Why isn't he here?

"Look, kid." The nurse has abandoned her nice approach, and Frank looks at her defiantly, daring her with his eyes to pass judgment. She stares at him, her eyes steely. "You're not the first one who's tried to take the easy way out. But I never, in ten years of nursing… I've never seen scars like yours." She sighs and looks around, as if checking to see if the coast is clear. Then, slowly she pulls up the front of her shirt, just enough to reveal a row of perfectly straight purple-white scars down her stomach. Frank's eyes trace the lines, but she hurriedly puts her shirt back down. "They wouldn't like me doing that. But I get it, hon." She turns to leave, but pauses in the doorway. "I doubt this'll be a surprise, but they're looking for somewhere to place you. Somewhere more… equipped to handle these sorts of things." Without another word, she leaves Frank alone with his thoughts.

 _Gerard's heart is nearly pounding out of his chest. He stops knocking and stares at the door, listening intently; there's some rustling around, and then the door opens and Amy is staring at him sleepily._

 _"_ _Gerard?" she says tiredly. "I was asleep. I told you to…" Her eyes fall on his blood-stained clothes, and she gasps. "Gerard, what the hell?"_

 _He looks over her shoulder, into the empty hotel room behind her. He sags against the doorframe, relieved; all the tension and rage have left him, and he just feels broken. "Frank…" he says quietly, and Amy's eyes widen with realization._

 _"_ _Is he…"_

 _"_ _In the hospital."_

 _She opens the door, inviting him in. He feels like a zombie as she leads him to the bathroom and starts the shower. Gerard thinks of the last shower he took, and can't stop the sobs that rack his body. He should be there with Frank, he should be holding his hand and telling him everything will be okay… And instead, he's here with Amy. The weight of his betrayal is suffocating him, but he knows that if he goes to see Frank now, he won't be able to hide the lies anymore._

 _Amy helps him undress and into the shower, and then follows suit. She keeps some space between them, like she knows that sex is the last thing on his mind for once; he can't stop crying as she tenderly washes his hair, then his body, tending to him like a small child. He's unresponsive to her attempts to soothe him; finally, she just wraps her arms around him and lets him cry until the water runs cold._

Frank doesn't want to see Gerard. He's watched the clock on the wall opposite him tick the hours away, and still there's been no sign of his lover. He's asked every nurse that's tended him if anyone has come to see him, or even called to ask how he's been; he's sick of their sweet, pathetic smiles when they tell him no, nobody cares if he's alive or dead.

Nurse Lacey's voice interrupts his thoughts. "Well, my shift is over," she says casually. He notices she's changed out of her scrubs; she looks nice in a white tank top and leather pants. She sets a bottle of Sprite on the table by his bed, smiling kindly. "I'm not allowed to give you anything in a can, I'm sure you can guess why." There's a hint of dark humor in her eyes, and Frank can't help but smile slightly. So far, she's the only nurse who doesn't cringe while cleaning his wounds, or offer a fake smile and that vague, cliché promise that "it'll get better." Frankly, he doesn't even know what "better" means anymore. He takes a sip of the crisp liquid and thanks his unlikely friend. She sits on the chair next to his bed. "Mind if I stay a while?"

"Sure," Frank says, because quite honestly the monotonous silence of his private room are beginning to make him want to splatter his brains against the wall. He doesn't have much to say, though, and the silence is awkward and even more deafening than when he's alone. Finally, Lacey speaks.

"My dad liked to hit us until I obeyed," she states simply. "And when his fists didn't get through to us anymore, he found other ways." She focuses on the book she's pulled from her purse. Frank stares at her, incredulous, but she doesn't elaborate.

"I never had a reason," Frank says finally, shakily. Lacey doesn't look up from her book. "I guess at first it was because I'm gay and my parents didn't want me in their house. But then Gerard came along…" he stops, because the very thought of Gerard makes his eyes swim with tears.

"Gerard's the one who called you in, right? The one who hasn't visited you." Frank nods, and Lacey folds the corner of the page she's on before setting her book down beside her. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," Frank says quietly, his voice cracking. "But I have an idea."

Lacey sighs. "This is all because of him?"

"No, not entirely."

"Then tell me what it is about. Because obviously, something's eating you."

"Just… For fifteen years he wouldn't even talk to me. Then he comes waltzing back into my life, telling me he loves me and he needs me. And now he disappears almost every night, all night, and comes home drunk and reeking of perfume."

"Ouch."

"And there's more he isn't telling me. I just don't know what it is."

"Why are you still with him?"

Frank is caught off-guard. He stares at the wall above Lacey's shoulder, shrugging. "I guess I've just wanted him for so long… now that I have him I don't think I can let him go. And he loves me… he wouldn't stay if he didn't, right?"

"Why would he ignore you for fifteen years? Don't report me for sexual harassment, but I mean, you're a pretty fine specimen under all the scar tissue."

Frank can't help the vague smile that spreads across his lips. Lacey's humor is infectious, and he feels an odd sort of connection to his new friend. Perhaps it's their common ground, or her morbid sense of humor; for the first time in a while, he feels at ease. Or perhaps it's just the blood he's lost.


	11. Chapter 11

*****TW drunk driving, self harm*****

 **Suggested song: I'm Alive by Flyleaf**

 **chapter 11**

 _Gerard lies in the dark beside Amy, her back against his chest. He watches the numbers on her digital clock slip by, and he knows he's not getting sleep tonight._

 _Slowly, he creeps out of bed, making a beeline for the kitchen. He rummages in the cupboards for a while before finding his prize; a big bottle of bourbon on top of the fridge. He chugs half in the first sip, enjoying the burn. He sets the bottle on the counter and catches his breath; then, he eyes his bloody pants, folded on the counter. As the liquor starts to make his head spin, he carefully fishes in the pocket, pulling out the blood-crusted razor. He presses it gently to his wrist, testing it; then, for the first time in probably twenty years, pushes down hard and tears his flesh._

 _The sting is refreshing and he takes another gulp. He feels warm blood pooling down his fingers, and revels in the almost forgotten feeling._

 _He places the edge against the tender flesh just below his elbow. His scalp prickles as he pushes even harder; the alcohol and something else numbs the pain. He can't hold in the insane giggle that spills from his lips as the blood begins to fall in droplets to the counter top. He hasn't gone this deep before._

 _As he polishes off the bottle, his thoughts start to stir up. Something like a conscious tells him that Frank could be dead and it would be his fault, that he could never even hope to deserve him. It says that he should be the one in that hospital bed. Gerard loses count of how many more times he plunges that razor into his arm; finally, he feels light-headed, and he figures he should clean this mess up._

 _He takes his shirt off and attempts to wipe his blood of the counter. Then he stumbles to the bathroom and searches for a first aid kit; sloppily, he patches himself up._

 _The next thought in his head: I need to go see Frank._

 _He feels blindly along the kitchen counter. His fingers close around his car keys; he doesn't even bother to put a shirt back on. Barefoot, drunk and half-naked, he makes his way to the elevator. He's grateful it's nearly 4am and everyone here is asleep or in their room for the night._

 _The elevator pings and he spends far too much time trying to find his car. Then, finally, he crawls into the vehicle, turning it on and sitting idle for a minute. The only thought left in his mind: if I drive then I might die tonight._

 _Chuckling ruefully, he double-checks that his seatbelt is fastened securely. Then, jerkily, he begins to back out._

Frank lies awake, staring at the white ceiling. He can't shake the chest-aching panicky feeling that something is horribly wrong. But, then again, he's had that feeling a lot lately.

He just can't wrap his head around why Gerard didn't come. I hate hospitals, he thinks. He must know that I need him here.

He just hopes that he's okay.

A sick feeling takes over his stomach as he remembers something. Back when they were just teens, nearly prepubescent. The night he found Gerard in his bathroom one night at a sleepover, his blood dripping into the sink. It was him, of course, who had done it first. It just stuck with Frank. It was one of the things they'd shared for so long, and tried to help each other recover from; and then, when he'd left, Frank had no motivation to stop anymore.

The hospital at night is far too loud. Frank feels smothered by the sickness and death around him. He burrows further under his flimsy blanket and clutches his wounded wrist to his chest. He's glad they've unrestrained him. He begins to pull at the gauze around his cuts, slowly unraveling the stained fabric. Then, he runs his fingertips along the damp wounds.

He pulls at the wiry strings stitching his wounds closed, feeling slick hot blood pour down his hand. He smiles at the aching pain. He picks at the wounds until he can feel a small pool of blood through his shirt and on the blankets. Finally, he finds he might just be able to fall asleep.

 **chapter 12**

 _Gerard pulls slowly towards the freeway, his heart racing. He tries to keep the car steady; a semi flashes past and dread courses through him. In his intoxicated state, the fear and the pain feel amazing. Finally, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and pulls onto the freeway._

 _The taillights of the other cars blur and Gerard nearly smashes into the person changing lanes before him. He swerves his way to the slow lane and creeps along at 55, begging whatever gods or deities exist to just keep him in his lane. His foot is jerky on the pedal, and he finds his speed creeping up without him knowing._

 _His phone begins to vibrate on the seat beside him, and immediately he looks at the screen. He sees Amy's name; then, he looks back up, just in time to see the semi-truck pulling directly in front of him._

 _He smashes on the breaks; his confused muscles, however, decide not to compute the part of the equation where they moved off of the gas._

Frank is awoken by a frantic nurse retying his bandages. He's restrained again. Great.

Her shrill voice scolds him but he doesn't listen to the old bat. Finally, she's gone.

He spends his day staring mulishly at the wall; finally, Lacey's shift starts.

But Lacey doesn't show up.

He questions the guard at his door, who informs him that today is her day off. Frank can't help but feel betrayed by her absence, although he doesn't blame her. He wouldn't want to spend all of his free time in the hospital, not for anybody. Except Gerard, chimes the sardonic voice in his head. He shakes the thought away.

Finally, at fiveish a somber looking doctor comes to his door.

The doctor shifts uncomfortably. "Mr. Iero…" He begins awkwardly. "May I um… May I ask the name of your… The man who reported your attempt?" He looks away. Frank's cheeks flush.

"My boyfriend?" He says, just to see the doctor squirm. "Gerard. Gerard Way."

The doctor is silent for a long moment. The look on his face makes a cold, hard ball of dread form in Frank's very core.

"Frank… last night a patient came in. DUI." He takes a deep breath. "A witness said he actually sped up when the semi pulled in front of him."

Frank feels like the world has stopped turning. He forgets to breathe.

"Is he alive?" is all he can choke out.

"He's in intensive care. But, Frank…"

"What?"

"He's suffered some really major trauma. He hasn't woken up and… we don't have much reason to believe he will."

~update: this is the final chapter in the first book. I may start posting the second soon, but I've gotten no reviews or anything soooooooooo~


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